


The Naming of Things

by ravenlowe



Series: By All Accounts [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenlowe/pseuds/ravenlowe
Summary: So in the end, Harry's motivations for wanting to know about Merlin's past doesn't matter. Merlin gives in, just as he always does.





	

Merlin is trying to work up the willpower to leave, when Harry's arm tightens around his waist. "We've been sleeping together for nearly a year, and I still feel as if I know nothing about you." He presses a kiss to Merlin's shoulder blade. "I don't even know your real name."

"God willing, you never will," he bites back, harsher than intended. It's no secret that even among those in the Service, Merlin is evasive about his past, and he doesn't quite understand why Harry is fishing for information during a perfectly good afterglow.

The arm around Merlin's waist withdraws as Harry sits up. "Come now, man, it can't be that bad."

"It's not," Merlin agrees as he follows suit. He pushes himself from the mattress and pads over to the chair he tossed his clothing at earlier. "But I don't feel any great ties to the name I was born to. It's not who I am. It's--" Merlin trails off as Harry gets up and walks in the direction of the en suite bathroom. The man has such an economy of motion; it's distracting. There's no movement wasted, even when they're alone in Merlin's quarters-- and watching him fight? Christ. It's as close to a religious experience as Merlin will ever have.

_Careful there, lad. Your fucking crush is showing. Don't get too attached, he doesn't feel the same way._

Because for as long as they've been carrying on, Harry has never given any indication he wanted to be anything more than friends with benefits, and Merlin is content with that. Really, he is.

"It's what?" Harry calls back over the sound of the sink running.

Merlin blinks, and tries to remember what he was saying. "Irrelevant. It's irrelevant."

"Somehow, Merlin, I don't think anything about you could be irrelevant," Harry shoots back with a flirty smile as he steps around Merlin to get dressed.

That's it. Merlin can't take it anymore. He's made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want to talk about his past, but here Harry is, continuing to press him. There _must_ be some kind of motive behind Harry's curiosity. "What's all this about then? I wasn't aware our arrangement included fuel for office gossip."

What happens next isn't something that anyone who hasn't spent countless hours of watching Harry via video feeds would notice, but Merlin has, and something in Harry's face closes off.

Merlin knows he's misstepped. "I was just curious," Harry hums as he knots his tie. "You have access to my file and know everything about me, after all. A bit one sided isn't it?" He toes on his shoes without looking Merlin in the eye again. "I'll see you at debriefing later?"

"Of course."

Harry angles a nod somewhere over Merlin's shoulder and slips out of the room as Merlin wonders what the _fuck_ just happened.

_________

 

The rest of the week passes as usual, but somehow off. He and Harry have sex three times.

Once before, and after a high adrenaline mission, then another round for good measure, but they don't get anywhere near Merlin's quarters, or even a bed. If they're not having sex or working, Harry remains conspicuously absent. Merlin misses his presence in a way that he never thought he could, or tells himself he shouldn't.

He's still baffled by their last real conversation, but can only conclude that he offended Harry somehow. It seems like it should be impossible. Back when they first starting their not-a-relationship, Merlin at his worst just made Harry dig his claws in deeper. Now, he's all but disappeared.

The problem, is that Merlin is more attached to Harry than he has any right to be, and now, without the man's constant, annoying, presence, Merlin doesn't know what to do with himself. So in the end, Harry's motivations for wanting to know about Merlin's past doesn't matter. Merlin gives in, just as he always does.

Though, true to form, he doesn't give in by answering the particular question Harry asked.

_I was born in London. We lived in the East End until I was five, when mum took us to live with her family in Aberdeen._

He leaves the handwritten note in Harry's briefing packet for his next mission, then goes on about his day. Neither one of them ever mention it, but Harry brings Merlin some chocolate back from Belgium, that they share before fucking on Merlin's desk.

_I got whipped more than once for taking apart all the electronics in the house, but not as often as I should have, because they worked better once I pieced them back together._

Merlin doesn't think too hard on the tidbits he leaves Harry. He just puts his mind to leave a note, writes something down before he can change his mind, then refuses to think about the ammunition he's giving Harry. He trusts Harry. He does. Merlin's written a dozen little notes by now, and he's never heard even a whisper, of the secrets he's written around the office.

_Mum never married, or had more children. She used to say that she'd gotten perfection the first time 'round, but I always thought she was too scared to be hurt again._

_I spent a lot of time alone as a child. Society has come a long way, but bastard is still a dirty word._

_My first great love was a circuit board._

They fuck on every surface of Merlin's office, until, a month after _the conversation_ , Harry drags Merlin into his own quarters and drops to his knees before they even have the door closed. It's around this time that Merlin _finally_ puts together what their fight, if you can even call it that, was about. Merlin had been so determined to believe that Harry couldn't want him for anything other than convenient sex, that he'd blinded himself to Harry's attempts to deepen their relationship.

Hindsight is 20/20, and Merlin wonders how many other things about Harry he completely missed in his bullheadedness.

_I was accepted into Cambridge, but joined the military instead. Spent the next four years diffusing bombs and looking for landmines._

Another year goes by. Harry spends half his latest mission describing the newest butterflies in his collection to Merlin in great detail, then invites him over to see them once he's back in London. Harry makes him dinner. Merlin spends the night.

_My father died without an heir. I was offered an inheritance, but passed it to my eldest half-brother. He's only three months younger than I am._

_My military career ended in an explosion. Mordred recruited me for Kingsman out of my hospital bed._

Merlin goes from spending the night to spending the weekend, and then, Harry asks him to move in. Handwritten messages turn into texts, then back into handwritten messages for the nostalgia of it all. They decrease in frequency over the years, as the pair of them _talk_ more. Notes become whispered tidbits, in bed, late at night.

Despite himself, the years go by, and Merlin finds himself married to Harry in all but name. They still fight like it's a fucking sport, and drive each other up the wall, but Merlin wouldn't trade it for the world.

It's 1997, and they've had one hell of a week when Merlin writes down a note and slides it to Harry.

_My name is David._

Harry looks at the note, then up to Merlin and frowns, before stealing Merlin's pen. He crosses Merlin's words out in favor of a new message then slides the note back over.

_Your name is Merlin, you daft twit, and whatever else you've been through, the important thing is you're mine. Now, drink your tea before it goes cold, and pass me the paper._

  


**Author's Note:**

> So, I posted this to tumblr forever ago, then I did an edit and kind of forgot about posting it, whups. Better late than never, right?
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, commenting, and doing those awesome things that you do! This was my first, and so far only Kingsman fic, but with the new movie in the works, who knows what'll happen?
> 
> The title comes from a song of the same name by Andrew Bird.
> 
> I can be found on tumblr @ sleepersith


End file.
